“Promise.” I pressed my palm to his chest, letting myself take one long, deep breath. I didn’t want him to leave; I didn’t want to need him to stay. I wanted—God, I wasn’t sure what I wanted anymore.
Abruptly aware that the low din of conversation had dipped, I glanced around to find most of the customers staring at us. But instead of the looks of judgment habitually shot in Rios’s direction, I saw open curiosity and quite a few grins that held a distinct tone of awww.
An old woman parked at a table by the window flashed a toothy smile. “Good for you, sonny.”
Her companion, who wore a lime green velour track suit, nodded and met my gaze. “Gotta appreciate a military man, sweetheart. They have stamina.”
“Um?” I squeaked, feeling heat flame across my cheeks.
For his part, Rios merely looked amused. “Right. That’s my sign to GTFO. I’ll be back.”
With a quick brush of a kiss that garnered more than one sigh, he stepped away, and I watched him disappear down the sidewalk, the sun striking off his glossy black hair, his frame receding into the ordinary bustle of the day. The bakery’s bell chimed again as I moved inside, blinking against the shift from sunlight to shadow.
Astrid was already waiting with coffee and pastries, having staked out a small table near the window—a vantage point on the street and, I realized, a line of sight to the bakery’s only exit. We settled in with only a few words, the comfort of familiarity making room for our mutual tension. The air inside was sweet and faintly sharp, warm from the ovens but not uncomfortable. There was a steady background of forks scraping plates, a barista calling out names, the front door swinging open and shut at intervals.
Astrid glanced at my face, her own mask slipping just enough for me to see the worry underneath. “Sleep?” she asked quietly.
“Some.” The truth landed heavier than I meant. “Better than last week, but that’s not saying much.”
She sipped her coffee. “I guess it’ll take a while to stop expecting danger around every corner.”
She didn’t know the half of it, but I wasn’t about to be the one to disabuse her of the notion that the threat was over, so I shifted to talk of ordinary things, as if the right sequence of words might pull the world back into order.
Eventually, Astrid set her mug down and looked me over with that calm professorial gaze. “So. What about you? I mean, the whole reason you came here was to figure out what was next, and that kinda got derailed.”
I hesitated. “I keep thinking the answer will just… appear. But it hasn’t. I know what I don’t want. I can’t go back to prosecution. I’m not sure anyone would have me if I tried.” I thought of my father and his demands. “I have negative zero desire to work in some high-powered firm, looking for some kind of prestige. That’s not who I am, and it’s not ever what I wanted, and I’m done doing anything just because my parents want me to.”
“Good for you. So what do you want?”
The question bounced around inside me. I looked out the window, watching a truck rattle past, a dog tug its owner toward the shade. “I want to do something that matters. I want—” I shook my head. “Hell, I don’t know. I thought coming here would give me clarity. But everything that’s happened has just… scrambled things more.”
“You could get your law license in North Carolina,” Astrid offered. “Stay. Open your own practice. Be your own boss for once.”
I fiddled with my napkin. “That’s a thought. But it feels huge. And risky. And I’m tired of fighting for everything. I’m tired, period.”
She gave a small nod, understanding gleaming in her eyes. “Would you want to go somewhere else?”
I shook my head, more certain of that than anything. “I can’t. Not now. I have unfinished business here.” Now that I knew what was happening here, what Gwen may have been a part of, I couldn’t just walk away.
Astrid grinned. “Is that unfinished business named Carrera?”
Heat crept into my cheeks. “Yeah, okay, he does factor in.”
“Have you talked about what comes next?”
“No. There’s been so much going on. We’re just playing it by ear. And I don’t want to press for any kind of answer or decision from him yet. I don’t want him to feel like I’m issuing an ultimatum.”
She waved that way. “Asking the guy you’re involved with what his plans are is just reasonable information seeking, not an ultimatum. You’re not saying, ‘do this or else.’”
“Maybe not, but we’re just so… new. Either way, I don’t want to leave the island, and I can’t stay camped out in a guest room at Sutter House forever. With my uncle’s boat gone, I should really look at finding my own place.”
“Well, with summer season shutting down, some of the rentals should for sure be opening back up. No doubt you could find something on a month-to-month basis while you’re deciding.” She blinked innocently. “Maybe even a place with room for two in the closet.”
I gaped at her. “You cannot seriously be suggesting we move in together this fast.”
“Why the hell not? He’ll need a place too, if he’s sticking around, and why not have that sexy hunk of Latino goodness warming your bed?”
I didn’t deny that I’d been doing exactly that in the time we’d been up at Sutter House. Or that I slept better with him beside me than I’d slept in longer than I cared to remember. “That seems like it’s getting ahead of things.”
